


Murder in the Wagon Lit

by rotrude



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Agatha Christie-Freeform, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Historical, Crime, Detection, M/M, Minor Character Death, Poirot-Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-17
Updated: 2016-10-17
Packaged: 2018-08-23 00:50:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8307481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rotrude/pseuds/rotrude
Summary: When Arthur Pendragon and Captain Merlin Emrys take the Orient Express on the last leg of their journey home, they think to be in for the common vagaries of long distance travel. Little do they expect to be involved in yet another case. Shortie written for Coinelot.





	

In Aleppo they take the Taurus Express. The following day they're in Istanbul and board the Orient Express at dusk. A moustachioed conductor shows them into their compartment and sets their cases onto the overhead rack. “Having such a famous detective on board is an honour, Mr Pendragon.” He pumps Arthur's hand. 

Swiping a thumb across the line of his upper lip, Merlin looks away.

“And, of course--” The Conductor turns towards Merlin. “--Captain Emrys. Quite as esteemed.”

With its fitted carpets and velvet curtains matching the seat fixtures, the restaurant carriage is old-world elegant. Crisp linens cover the tables, while crystal-drop chandeliers shine with the glimmer of hundreds of light bulbs. 

A narrow aisle separates two rows of tables from a third. Merlin and Arthur chose a nook in a quiet corner and order dinner.

“I'm looking forward to going back to London.” Merlin cuts into his meat. “No cases for a while. Only peace and quiet.”

“London is hardly peaceful,” Arthur says, watching Merlin rather than paying attention to his own meal.

Merlin snorts. “You really can't live without the challenge, can you? You must always prove your worth. That you're the best.”

Arthur's about to counter that, when a man drops into the seat next to Merlin. Ignoring the latter, he addresses Arthur only and says, "Have I the pleasure of speaking to Arthur Pendragon?”

Trying his best to ignore the man's rudeness, Arthur says, “Yes.” 

“My name's Ragnor. Consider yourself hired.”

“Hired?”

“You must look into a certain matter for me.”

“You don't even know what type of detective I am.” 

“Doesn't matter, you'll do,” Ragnor says. “There's good money in it for you.”

Arthur shares gazes with Merlin and Merlin shakes his head no. “I'm afraid my services are not so easily bought.”

Ragnor slaps his hand on the table. “That's ridiculous. You're a Private Eye, a man for hire.”

“You'll find that's not the case.”

“But I have enemies,” Ragnor says. “My life is being threatened.”

Judging by the man's personality, that's small wonder, Arthur finds. “I'm not a bodyguard.”

“No, you're a detective.” Ragnor's mouth thins. “And you must find who wants me dead.”

Even though Ragnor's proving highly irritating, Arthur can't say no. Both his conscience and sense of honour forbid him. “Come to me again in the morning. We'll discuss your case then.”

That proves a satisfactory enough answer for Ragnor, because he stands and says, “Eight sharp. Don't be late.”

A knock on the door wakes Arthur and Merlin at six the following morning. From behind the door to their compartment the Conductor whispers, “Mr Pendragon, come, please, hurry. There's been a dreadful accident.”

Turning on the light, Merlin hands Arthur his night robe. Arthur pulls it over his semi-naked form and flings the door open. “What is the meaning of this?”

“It's Mr Ragnor, sir.” The Conductor pants. “He's been found dead in his Wagon Lit.”


End file.
